unaware envy
by falling winter roses
Summary: hermione, a cellist, and draco, a bit of a stalker. / the worst oneshot ever / qlfc / muggle!au


**a/n: this could've been a great fic. however, it was written by **_**me **_**in a very short timespan.**

**.**

_**reserving seeker, qlfc forum, puddlemere united**_

_**season seven, round eight**_

_**main prompt:**_

**Queen of Pentacles —**

**Reversed: Self-Centredness, Jealousy, Smothering**

**word count: 1001**

**.**

_The wooden bow glistens underneath the stage lights, as does the deep wood of the cello. But in the grey eyes of a man in the front row, what shines the brightest is the woman behind this sound… this sound that dances around and around the auditorium, in and out of his ears, with a life of its own. All created by the wondrous woman sitting there, up on the stage…_

* * *

The cellist, carrying her bag and still in her performance gown, headed outside to see her boyfriend waiting for her.

"Well, don't you look dashing," she smiled.

"Oh, you think?"

"I don't think, I know."

"Oh, well, isn't that always what you do, little miss know-it all?"

She laughs.

Hand-in-hand, they walk down the city streets to their apartment.

* * *

_Pale blonde hair whips behind a wall as the couple passes by, a laughing woman and a red-haired man. So in love, so perfect…_

_A sneer twists pale pink lips. He doesn't deserve her… he doesn't understand her beauty. That freckled weasel will never be able to appreciate the woman's music as he does._

_Grey eyes follow the couple down the sidewalk, tinted green with envy._

* * *

The woman sighs as she changes into a more comfortable set of clothing before heading out into the living area to a surprising sight.

The red-haired man she's loved since they were merely high schoolers… he is kneeling on the living room carpet, a black velvet box open in the palm of his hand, a glittering ring nestled in the velvet interior.

A sight that will forever be etched in her most wondrous memories.

She takes a single step forward. Then another one. And then another, until she is standing in front of him.

His lips curve upwards into a handsome smile. "Hermione Jean Granger… would you do me the wonderful favor of marrying me?"

She almost can't stop herself from screaming in delight.

"Yes."

* * *

_The word echoes in his mind. _"Yes."

_A single word, ruining his life, his heart, the last fragments of his mind._

_Broken beyond belief, he contemplates letting go of the network of pipes he nestles in every night. Hidden by a great oak tree in the back of the apartment complex, he spends most of his days here, in this little alcove he's carved in his heart. Here, he is closer. He is closer to _her, _his light, yet also _him, _his darkness._

_But a light in empty darkness has no shadow, and so here he always is, alone, cold, but unfeeling of anything but the blanket of warmth that comes with being near _her.

_Tonight, though… he can barely feel that source of warmth. It is as if the darkness of _him _has trapped her within the ring that she now wears as she sleeps. The silver band studded with sparkling diamonds… it is a darkness encircling her light. He cannot feel her anymore._

_No, no, _no… _he cannot _live _without being able to feel her._

_He has to be able to feel her._

_He has to get her away… take her away… free her from the darkness…_

_It is the only way he will survive._

_It is for the greater good, for both of them._

_She will see the truth._

* * *

Hermione's had this particular student for a while. He's always seemed familiar, but Hermione can't seem to place it. He's quite quiet, and around her age, but he's always enthusiastic about the class.

After the class he comes up to her and gives her a rare smile. "Hello, Ms. Granger."

"Draco," she greets. "How are you?"

"I'm good. I noticed your ring, and wanted to congratulate you. Soon it'll be Mrs., won't it?"

She laughs. "Yes, I suppose it will be." She looks down and smiles, caressing the gorgeous ring that he slid up her finger last night. Shen then looks up and focuses on those shockingly familiar grey eyes.

"Thank you."

* * *

_She is intoxicating. Her scent of familiar perfume, warm wood, and green apples enrobes him in a comforting aura of safety._

_He smiles. It is easy to smile here, in front of her, for her. "Hello, Ms. Granger."_

"_Draco," she says. His heart flutters. The way she says his name… he will be thinking of that for the rest of his life. "How are you?"_

"_I'm good," he replies, trying not to squirm. His heart is racing with excited joy. "I noticed your ring, and wanted to congratulate you. Soon it'll be Mrs., won't it?"_

_She laughs. It is one of the most beautiful things about her, that laugh. Sparkling and bubbling, like champagne as it is poured into a glass. "Yes, I suppose it will be." She looks down at her ring, and the loving gaze in her eyes directed at that token of _him _fills Draco with a smothering, jealous hatred._

_He takes a small step closer as she looks back up. She doesn't notice this. And she doesn't notice Draco's lithe fingers slipping off her ring as he stares back into those warm brown eyes._

* * *

She doesn't notice until she gets home and is washing her hands in the kitchen sink. She looks down and notices that her hands are bare.

There is no silver band on her left ring finger. No diamonds sparkling through the soapy water.

She gasps in disbelief and quickly wipes her hands off. She searches her hands, desperately hoping that the sudden disappearance of her engagement ring was simply a trick of the light. She's desperately hoping that her engagement ring isn't lost.

And not even a day after he proposed, too… isn't this situation the worst luck for engaged couples?

She shakes her head, erasing the thought. Hermione Granger doesn't believe in luck.

She loves her ginger, freckled companion, and she will love him forever. And he loves her. They've been in love since high school, and that's all there is to it.

What kind of bad luck could happen to a fairytale love story like that?


End file.
